


Make It Through the Night

by ReyloTrashCompactor (NextToSomething), SouthSideStory



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo is dead., But I promise it's okay., Canon Compliant, Cozy, F/M, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), Healing with Hygge, Hot Cocoa, It's going to be okay., Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, That's TOTALLY how the Force works!, Therapy for the Reylos, hygge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21892903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextToSomething/pseuds/ReyloTrashCompactor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthSideStory/pseuds/SouthSideStory
Summary: "You're dead," she said. "I saw you--leave."His lips twitched and she knew that he was overpowering an impulse. He was a chaotic mess when left to his own devices, laying destruction in actions as easily as words. But with her, he always took another breath. Telling her something truer than what his compulsory nature would usually allow.He'd never lied to her."I'm dead," he agreed. "But…" He trailed off, opening and closing his mouth around all the words that weren't quite right."But?" she prompted. Her palm didn't itch for her saber like it used to when he was near. He never lied to her and he wouldn't start in death."But I'm here."..Rey tucks herself away in a snowy village to grieve the loss of Ben Solo. But she soon learns that no one is ever really gone.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 249
Kudos: 733
Collections: TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's our take on the fix it fic. We are writing this with the express intention of therapy and healing, however, we don't want to sacrifice character for a quicker fix. There Will Be Fluff.

_His teeth are crooked._

That's what Rey thought when he smiled. She wasted a breath of her last moments with him looking at his kriffing teeth, and thinking that they were sort of cute. His scar dimpled along with his cheek and she decided that was even cuter. He was beautiful and he was hers, Ben, Ben with the heartbreaking smile and the crooked teeth.

Rey saw an eternity in that smile, an exhale after a long-held breath. They were _they,_ and this was a beginning. An ache carried in two bodies, since they were children, finally soothed. Rey was wondering what their second kiss might be like, and if they would go back to the Resistance base or find somewhere new. Rey could make a home out of anything and Ben could, oh Ben could—

And then he was gone. He was this impossible weight in her arms, and yet lighter than he should have been. Where was the rest of him? Why were his eyes closing? Where—where was he going?

No! No, not without her, not again. They ran and chased and fought and ran again, but that was over now. That was over and he wasn't supposed to leave. He wasn't supposed to leave! They were they, beginning, beginning, Ben Ben Ben Ben _Ben_!

Rey gasped as she sat up in bed, trembling and crying.

It _hurt_. In her heart, in her lungs, down to the marrow of her bones. Every piece of her was damaged by his absence, especially the parts most necessary for her survival. Maybe that was why she felt like she couldn't live without him.

Rey scrubbed at her wet face with the covers, forcing herself to breathe. To close her eyes and reach out, feeling the energy around her. Snow falling outside, fragile crystals buffeted by the wind. A fire burning in the hearth, casting a smoky, evergreen scent into the cool air. There was a mouse in the kitchen, nibbling on the crumbs of the ginger cookies she'd eaten after dinner, and some kind of fluffy marsupial taking shelter beneath the porch. Life and light, everywhere. She wasn't alone.

And then she felt _him_. The same warm, bright energy that had filled her body as he'd given his life for hers—

Rey opened her eyes, and found Ben sitting beside her in bed. He looked solid and real, no hint of blue around his silhouette. She knew what it felt like to be in the presence of a ghost, how an individual's energy was no longer fully distinct within the wider web of the Force. This wasn't like that. She could feel Ben, only Ben, as intimately as if he was really here.

But that was impossible. Because Ben was dead.

She'd think she was dreaming, but the cold room and the scent of pine smoke were too vivid and sharp for her to still be asleep. No, this was something else.

The dark side, it had to be. It had always excelled at teasing her with the things she wanted most, and there was nothing she’d ever wanted more than to see Ben again.

Rey scrambled down the bed, chest heaving with harsh breaths. Gods, he looked so beautiful. He wore the clothes he'd died in, but he was clean and whole, not battle worn. His dark eyes seemed to drink the fire light, his soft lips parted, opening on her name.

"What—what are you?" Rey asked.

He paused, his eyes darting over her face, as if he were about to ask the same thing. He exhaled, shaking his head.

"I—I don't know."

His _voice._ He sounded different when he spoke to her, sonorous and coaxing, as if always trying to tame a cornered animal. Even now, when he seemed as uncertain as she was, he tried to soothe her. It was the cruelest trick the Force could play on her.

"You're dead," she said. "I saw you—leave."

His lips twitched and she knew that he was overpowering an impulse. He was a chaotic mess when left to his own devices, laying destruction in actions as easily as words. But with her, he always took another breath. Telling her something truer than what his compulsory nature would usually allow.

He'd never lied to her.

"I'm dead," he agreed. "But…" He trailed off, opening and closing his mouth around all the words that weren't quite right.

"But?" she prompted. Her palm didn't itch for her saber like it used to when he was near. He never lied to her and he wouldn't start in death.

"But I'm here."

 _Here_. He said it so simply, confused but with conviction.

Rey moved closer, drinking in the sight of him. His dark hair and vulnerable mouth and pale skin dotted with beauty marks. Perfect. She held out her hand, and it was as if time had turned back a year, and she was sheltering in a stone hut on Ahch-To rather than a wooden cottage on Pellah. Testing the limits of their bond, half afraid of and half yearning for his touch. Ben reached out, hesitant, trembling—

They gasped together when their fingers met. He felt as real as he looked, his skin warm, the calluses on his hand rough.

Rey climbed onto his lap and threw her arms around him. She didn’t care what he was, or how this was possible, only that he was with her again.

“Ben.” She buried her face against his neck. He even smelled right, some intangible but distinctive scent that she wanted to breathe in forever. “Don’t go. Please don’t—”

_Don’t leave me behind._

It was the mantra of her life, the plea that had defined her.

Ben hugged her close, one hand cradling the back of her head. “I’ll stay as long as I can.”

It wasn’t enough. Only a lifetime shared with Ben would ever be enough, and that was beyond her reach.

“Where have you been?” Rey asked. “Were you with the others? Your mother and Luke?”

“No, I haven’t seen them. I don’t remember anything after Exegol.” Ben was drawing circles on her back, and she’d never felt anything more soothing. “But I was somewhere warm, somewhere light. Soft, peaceful. Not really awake or asleep, sort of caught in between. It felt like…”

Rey leaned back enough to look him in the eyes. She could feel his breath on her face. “Like what?”

He swallowed, the apple of his throat bobbing. “It felt like _you_. Your energy. Your light.”

Rey put her hand on his chest, over his heart. It beat against her palm, as fast as her own. No, more than that. It was in time with her own, dancing together with flawless synchronicity.

The truth dawned on her with sudden clarity.

“When you disappeared, I thought your energy became a part of the Force, a part of everything, but—" Rey cupped his face between her hands. It had taken all of his life force to save her, and now she held it, Ben’s spirit entwined with her own. "It's here." Her voice broke on the words. "In me."

He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “Good. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you.”

Rey smiled, a cautious quavering of her lips more than anything else. It was a very _Ben_ thing to say, and she didn't want to bruise the moment by insisting that he should want more from his life. He deserved more.

"What does it feel like?" she asked as she rubbed her nose against his. She breathed in his exhale, taking in a leather and herbs scent that clung to him. It was brighter now, unstained by sweat and blood and fear. He could breathe, but she wondered if he actually had to.

"Mmm?" he asked, his fingers idly climbing up her spine like the rungs of a ladder. Absent, comfortable touches she'd lost all hope of ever having.

"What does this, all of this, feel like?" It wasn't living, but it was… something.

He pulled her more firmly against him, pressing his cheek to hers. He wasn't warm to the touch, but he wasn't cool, either.

"I feel you. The weight of you in my arms, how you smell, how—how warm and vital you are." He reached out a hand, pressing it into the fluffy down bedding and mattress. "This is less distinct. I can feel it, but I have to concentrate. And I don't want to concentrate on anything but you."

She was afraid to smile again, afraid to be too happy about this. It felt tremulous, like he might dissolve from between her hands.

Again.

"Where are you?" he asked, then shook his head. "Where are we?"

Rey pulled back, though it almost hurt to lose even one point of contact with him. She still wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't all a dream.

"Pellah," she said. "We're in the village of Cypren."

His eyebrows wrinkled as he shook his head. "I don't recognize the name."

Rey ran her hands up his neck and into his hair. It was thick and coarse and slick, like the mane of the orbaks on Kef Bir.

"Yeah, it's sort of the point. I think the planet was renamed recently, but I don't know from what." She nodded to the window across from her bed and Ben turned to look. He squinted, as if the daylight hurt his eyes.

"It's the middle of the day," he said. There was worry in his eyes when he turned back to her. "We're in bed. Are you sick?"

Rey shook her head, looking down at his chest when she spoke. "No. It's just—difficult for me to sleep. At night."

Ben looked out the window again, but not before she saw the look on his face.

Guilt.

"It's white," he said.

Rey hummed in agreement. "It's snowing. It snows all the time here."

Ben was still looking out the window when he said, "I can't see it very well."

"Can't see what?"

He waved at the window and the snow covered evergreen forest beyond.

"I can't see—the snow."

Rey's heart lurched, and Ben pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the flutter in his own body.

"What can you see?" she asked. This was starting to hurt again. Ben wasn't here, not really, not enough. He couldn't see the snow.

Ben looked around, down at the quilted bedding and over her many pillows. "I see the bed, and the headboard. I can almost see the glass of water on your bedside table, and I see all the white light." He looked at her, his mouth twitching into the palest smile. "I see you perfectly. Every single detail."

Tears pricked at her eyes, a dull pain she was getting used to. Ben touched his own eyes, but they were dry. There was a small comfort in that; there were still parts of him that were entirely his own.

"What is this?" she asked. Her voice was a whisper even in the quiet room. What if she woke herself up?

"It's not a dream," he said. He was comforting her again, even though he was the man who’d died before he was ever given a chance to really live. He had mere moments of a quiet life, without the voice of a Sith in his head. And now he was here, little more than the same thing: a voice in her mind, a spectre that existed only within her arm's reach.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

"Please don't cry," he said. "I'm here, Rey. I'm _here."_

It was reckless, but she reached for his hair, his neck, pulling too roughly against something that was barely there. She crushed her mouth to his, sobbing at the fact that he was substantial enough for their teeth to clack painfully together. Ben matched her intensity and wrapped his solid arms around her. He was holding her so tightly that she could barely breathe, and it was the sweetest gift she'd ever been given.

"I'm here," he said with a strained, broken sob. He was crying, and she could feel his tears, taste the salt as they mingled with her own. He kissed her in short, desperate bursts, again and again as they held on so tight. "I don't know what this is," he panted between kisses, "But I feel this deeper than I've ever felt anything in my life."

"Me too," she said. She kissed his scar like she'd wanted to for months, kissed his eyelids and hairline and ears. They were big, protruding even, and she laughed. Ben had big ears and crooked teeth, and if that wasn't real, then she didn't know what else there could possibly be.


	2. Chapter 2

Rey had fallen asleep in Ben’s arms, but she woke up alone. Moonlight and firelight filled her bedroom, silver and gold competing with the shadows. The sheets beside her were ruffled, and when she laid her hand on the depression he’d left on the pillow, it was still warm. She’d missed him by moments, and she’d let the chance to say goodbye slip away again. What if he didn’t come back? She might have squandered the last bit of her time with Ben sleeping.

She sat up, yanking back the covers like an idiot, as if he might somehow be hiding beneath them.

“Ben?”

Maybe he was in the next room. But no, there was no _next room_ for Ben. He existed only with her, his new world so very small.

Rey beat her fists against the mattress, sobbing. He was gone, and she had no idea when he might reappear, if ever. This was the first she’d seen of him since Exegol, even though he’d been dead for three weeks. She couldn’t wait that long to touch him again.

Then she felt something, a ripple in the Force, which grew to a wave, washing over her. Warmth that started in the middle of her chest and extended outward, filling her with light. Ben’s light. He was home, inside her heart, and he wanted to alleviate her pain. It helped, feeling him so close, knowing that in this one way they would never be apart.

Rey tried to distract herself by reading the Jedi texts. Sacred though they were, the dry words couldn’t hold her attention for more than a few minutes. Meditation didn't go any better, when she was too fixated on Ben to relax. A walk then. The bracing air would do her good.

She bundled up in a thick sweater, fleece lined leggings, boots, a heavy wool coat, gloves, and a green knitted hat. Outside, the world was white and cold and untouched. Snow stretched around her cottage in every direction, blanketing the ground. More was falling, flakes fluttering through the air around her like wayward dancers.

After a lifetime hidden away on a desert junkyard, Rey couldn't help finding snow magical. It had snowed every day since her arrival, and she hoped that trend would continue.

If only she could share it with Ben, this would be perfect.

"Ben," she whispered, his name ghosting before her in the cold air. "Come back."

She closed her eyes and felt deep within herself, searching for his presence. It didn't take long to find his light, glowing like a hearth fire, but when she tried to draw him out, she met an impenetrable wall. Something kept his spirit within her but beyond her reach.

"Dammit."

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

Rey walked until her legs ached and the tip of her nose was numb, but it helped ease her restlessness. Almost.

She kept herself as busy as she could over the next week, mostly training and meditating, but Ben was never far from her thoughts. In the quietest moments, she wondered when he might come back. ( _When_ , not _if_ , because she didn't have the strength to consider the possibility that she'd never see him again.)

And then, when she least expected it, he appeared.

Rey was sitting by the hearth, drinking a cup of hot cocoa, when everything grew quieter. The fire seemed to hush, its sparks and crackling softened, the rattling windows suddenly silent. Rey could hear only her own breaths—and then his too.

Ben sat across from her, his eyelids heavy and hair rumpled, as if he'd just woken up from a long nap. He stretched, which made him look even larger, long arms extended and broad shoulders widened. She felt thankful to be privy to Ben in this strange, unguarded moment, yawning and sleep tousled. She'd been so afraid she'd never see him again, but he was here, with her.

Rey set aside her mug of cocoa and climbed right onto his lap. Ben smiled, that same dimple-cheeked grin he'd given her—

No. She wouldn't think about that.

"How did you sleep?" she teased. She didn't feel particularly playful, but she also didn't want to show him how much his disappearance had affected her. She wanted to show him only her happiness.

He groaned, giving her a soft kiss high on her cheek. He was warmer to the touch now, more vital. She didn't know what it meant.

"Okay, I guess. I wouldn't really call it sleeping—" He looked around. Rey wondered how much of the room he could see. "How—how long have I been gone?"

Rey swallowed, keeping her voice steady. "A week and a day. Give or take a few hours."

Ben wiped a large hand over his face, as if trying to scrub away the fog. He nodded. "It felt shorter to me. A night, maybe."

Rey wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck. "What else? Maybe if we can figure out the rules, we can see each other more often."

Ben smiled, and it glowed brighter than the flickering fire. Rey wondered if he could feel how his smiles made her chest ache. "That would imply that the Force played fair. We both know that it doesn't."

His words made the room feel heavier and Rey didn't want to dwell on it. If she let herself think about his death, about the week she'd spent alone, she might not be able to take it.

"Even so. You look like you've been napping, so I just assumed that you had been sleeping."

Ben brushed her hair from her face, fingering the loose strands as he concentrated.

"It's like laying in the sun with your eyes closed. It's warm and you can feel the light better than you can see it. It's—nice."

Rey wrinkled her nose. "It sounds lonely."

He kissed her then, his lips so plush and full. It was a decadent kiss, unhurried and imprecise. She felt his tongue brush against her bottom lip, and she startled away from him, touching her mouth.

Ben cocked his head with a smirk, and Rey thought he had never seemed more like his father's son. "What is it?"

Rey shook her head. "Nothing. I just hadn't expected—I thought it was just lips."

His tone was less teasing when he said, "A kiss can be anything you want it to be."

Rey shivered, though she was comfortably warm in front of the fire. There were a lot of promises in his words and Rey was both anxious and terrified to test their boundaries.

"Do it again," she said.

He did, easing her into it. He tasted her top lip, then her bottom, tickling her. Then he shifted his weight, holding her more tightly, and parted her lips on a sigh.

Ben's kiss was a meditation, a soft meld of taste and sensation. He tasted like honey, which was very strange. She'd only just learned what honey was after her most recent trip to the village market, and after biting into the delicate honeycomb, she decided that it was the most delicious thing in the galaxy. Another strange facet to this reality they shared.

When Ben pulled back, his eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide. "You taste like chocolate," he murmured, and she started.

"Oh! Are you hungry? Do you want a hot cocoa? Chocolate is my new second favorite thing."

His laugh was even more beautiful than his smile and Rey wanted to say a thousand foolish things just to hear it again.

"Second favorite? What's first?"

Could he taste the honey on his tongue? Would he know if she said so? Honey shaped by Ben Solo's mouth was her truest ambrosia.

She stood instead of answering and tugged at his hands. "Come on. I want to show you my—the cabin."

She would like it to be his cabin too, but she didn't know exactly how to ask a quasi-ghost to move in. She wasn't sure he would even want to. He already lived inside her; would calling this his home as well make him feel even more confined?

She took his hand, leading him from one room to the next. His vision seemed to extend to about a yard around them, so she walked the perimeter of each room. The living room was cozy, all exposed brick and polished wood. Ben was large enough to be able to see the raw beams and plaster ceiling. The decor was simple and practical, a pretty water pitcher or a plant whose leaves could soothe burns. She'd had nothing to do with it; Rey had simply told someone her name and that she would like to stay for a while. By the end of the day, she was settled in front of the fire with stew on the stove.

She wasn't a nobody anymore, and even these serene people knew what she'd done for the galaxy. She only wished they knew what Ben had done as well.

"This is all wood?" Ben asked, gesturing around them.

Rey nodded, excited to show him something other than the metal bowels of a star destroyer.

"Forests cover eighty percent of the planet. Even the speeders have wood incorporated in their design."

He huffed a laugh. Ben was looking around in the same kind of wonder that she had when she first arrived.

"Did you never stay someplace like this when you were young?" His family was affluent, and he hadn't always been in training to be a Jedi.

Something passed over his features, a faint sadness, and Rey could have kicked herself. She knew what his childhood had been like, even clearer now. Would a Sith possessed child even notice the color of the walls?

"Yes," he said, that slight pain erased with an easy smile. She would never grow tired of them. "My parents had a love for a particular moon of Endor, and accommodations there were always… rustic."

She stopped leading him around the room, staring up at him. "Did you enjoy it?"

He smiled down at her, though she found she didn't like this one as much. It didn't touch his eyes. "We only went twice, and D-Dad had to leave early the second time."

There was more to that story, she knew, but Rey didn't want to waste their time together with anything but joy. Maybe it was selfish, or even callous, but she wanted Ben here with her, happy and in the moment. Maybe later, once they better understood how the Force was going to treat this, they could talk.

"Let me show you the kitchen."

He trailed after her, occasionally touching his free hand to something. The knob on a drawer or the herbs drying in the window.

"Do you cook?" he asked, and Rey laughed.

"If it involves more than adding water, I'm a disaster. There's a woman, Sall, who comes by every few days."

His next smile was curious. "What is this place?"

Rey grinned. "An escape."

She had plenty of food leftover from the dinner Sall had made her last night. Roasted pumpkin soup seasoned with nutmeg, maple syrup, and pepper. Some sort of purple root vegetable that had been halfway sliced, stuffed with butter and white cheese, and baked until its salted skin was crispy. Best of all, a roast, its meat so tender than it fell apart at the slightest touch. Caramelized onions swam in the brown gravy made from its drippings, savory and sweet.

Rey shooed Ben toward a chair at the rough, wooden kitchen table, and fixed a bowl of the soup and a plate full of everything else. She heated up the food and set it on the table before him.

She claimed the chair to his right, full of an odd pride at the sight of his hungry expression, even though she hadn’t had a damn thing to do with preparing his meal.

Ben said, “I really hope I can eat this, because it smells amazing.”

It turned out that he could eat it, and he certainly did, down to the last morsel of meat and last spoonful of soup.

“Do you want more?” Rey asked.

Ben shook his head. “I shouldn’t have eaten this much. I don’t _have_ to eat, I think, but I can still enjoy it. I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

It didn’t, quite, not to Rey. She couldn’t imagine a life in which food wasn’t utterly necessary.

All she said was, “I’m glad you liked it.”

When he made to wash the dishes, she waved him off. “No, don’t do that. I’ll deal with them after…”

After he disappeared again, but she didn’t want to voice that. She was afraid the Force would hear her and take him away sooner. Which was ridiculous, but not worth testing.

Rey ran a hand through her loose hair. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate, then we can go back to the living room, okay?”

Ben nodded, watching closely while she warmed up a small pot of milk, stirred in powdered chocolate and a splash of vanilla, and poured it into two mugs. She finished with a healthy dollop of whipped cream in each cup, and handed the larger one to Ben.

He sipped it, hummed a low noise that made her belly flutter, and said, “That’s delicious. I haven’t had hot chocolate in… I don’t even know how long.”

Rey took his hand—she’d never tire of holding his hand, she was certain—and led him back to her nest of blankets and pillows on the floor before the hearth. They sat together, side by side, beneath the same fluffy comforter, drinking cocoa. Everything was warm and sweet with Ben so close, chocolate on her tongue and pine logs burning in the fireplace.

“Rey. Why are you here?” His voice was kind, as always, but it held a note of knowing. She couldn't hide anything from him, it seemed, especially not now.

“Shiira, one of the Resistance mechanics, is from here. She talked about being homesick one day, when we were playing sabacc, and after everything…” Rey finished off her drink, set the mug aside, and said, “I thought it sounded like a nice place to get away. What’s further from Jakku than a snowy, forested world full of peaceful people?”

Ben touched her chin and tilted her face toward his. “You have friends, and a galaxy in need of guidance—thanks to me.” A rueful smile played around the edges of his lips. “This is really where you want to be?”

"Right now?" She smirked at him. "Yes."

He narrowed his eyes and waited for her real answer.

“I love my friends,” Rey said. “But it’s only been a few weeks since you—you died. I needed to be alone. To sort out my feelings without an audience. To grieve. Finn and Poe are more than capable of taking care of the Resistance, and helping rebuild. Much more capable than I’d be right now.”

Ben pressed his lips to her temple, an almost kiss, and whispered, “It’s going to be okay, Rey. You’re doing much better than I would have if—” He drew back, looking down at her, his brown eyes so gentle. “I love you, and I have for a long time.”

The firelight flickered against his pale skin, reminding her of the night she first met Ben Solo, the night she first truly believed that his story included more than just a mask and a fiery saber.

Rey cupped his cheek. “I’ve loved you since we first touched hands. I didn’t understand it then, but later, after we parted ways, I figured it out. I missed you every day, so much that in the quiet moments, when I didn’t have training or fighting to distract me, I could barely breathe.”

Ben turned into her touch and kissed her palm. “I should have gone with you that day on the _Supremacy_. If I had, maybe we’d be together now.”

Rey curled her fingers, holding the kiss in her fist. It was childish, but she wanted to savor the touch for as long as she could. Tuck it in her pocket, or hide it in a jar in the spice cupboard, between the saffron and the cinnamon.

“We _are_ together. It isn’t fair that this is all we have, but I’m thankful for it.” Rey shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to say you should be happy with your lot. Especially since you’re the one who died.”

“I think it’s easier for me this way,” Ben said. “When I’m not here, I’m just resting somewhere light. I can't tell you how comforting that is after sharing my mind with the dark side my whole life." His eyes dropped from hers, looking into his half empty mug. When he looked up, the torment he had suffered for years seemed to flicker faintly behind his eyes. But only for a moment. In death, Ben at least earned his peace. He sighed. "But you, you have to wait.”

Rey smiled, though it felt wobbly on her lips. He would always put her first, it seemed. “It’s all right. I’m good at waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you've got a minute, please let us know what you thought of this chapter. <3


	3. Chapter 3

Dawn light crept inside the cabin, brightening from dark blue to grey to gold. Rey smothered a yawn behind her hand, but Ben didn't miss it.

"You should sleep," he said. "I've kept you up all night."

She gave him her flattest stare. "I don't know when I'll see you again. I'm not about to sleep through what little time we have."

"You can't stay awake forever."

Ben smiled, and there was something so _Han_ about it that she could only smile back.

"Don't underestimate me," Rey said loftily. "I once stayed up for three days straight, guarding my AT-AT, because I knew one of the scavenger gangs planned to rob me blind."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "How did that work out for you?"

Rey scowled. "I was so tired from no sleep that they beat me up pretty easily and took all my salvage. In my defense, I was thirteen." She slumped, blinking heavily. "Maybe that wasn't the best example of my stamina."

Rey only let herself doze long enough to rest her eyes, and in that unguarded moment, Ben picked her up. He cradled her against his chest, carrying her like a bride from the living room to her bed. She started to protest, but then he took off his boots and climbed in with her, right under the covers.

Vaguely, Rey thought that, under most circumstances, it might be impolite to get in bed with someone without an invitation--especially for the first time--but she didn't give a damn. What did sharing a bed matter, when they already shared so much else?

Ben lay beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body. She touched his chest, and his heart beat hard under her hand. So alive. It seemed impossible that he could truly be here, this solid and vibrant, and still be dead. Maybe grief had driven her mad, or this was actually some cruel trick from the dark side, like she'd feared at first.

"It isn't a trick," Ben said. "This is real. _I'm_ real."

Rey ran her hand down to his stomach, then beneath his shirt. His skin was soft, his muscles firm. Ben sucked in a sharp breath, then let it out on a shudder as she slid her fingers up along his ribcage. She'd imagined touching him this way a hundred times, and when he was alive, she'd never gotten the chance.

"It's like a horrible joke," she said. "Whenever we touched, it was nearly always in violence. And fighting is the least of what we were. What we are."

"We've got time to do things differently."

Ben's voice was low, choked, and when Rey met his eyes, she shivered at the heat she found there. She'd seen Ben's passion often enough to recognize it, but this had nothing to do with darkness or power. This passion was of a baser, and yet more innocent sort. The connection between them drew taught, and Ben's feelings--and desires--rushed through her thoughts as clearly as if they were her own. She saw herself on her back beneath him, both of them naked now, kissing, one of her hands tangled in his hair, the other clinging to his back. He was moving on top of her, rocking between her legs--

Rey gasped, but she didn't pull away from him, and when Ben rolled her onto her back, she let him settle on top of her. It was like the vision she'd just had, except that they were still clothed. Gods, did he want to do that _now_? If he did, she'd let him, but she couldn't imagine suggesting it.

Rey made herself ask, "Have you ever…?"

A muscle beneath his mouth worked, his breathing unsteady.

"No," he whispered. "I was on the Jedi path for a long time, and then after Snoke, it wouldn't have been safe to get too attached to someone."

Rey brushed his hair away from his face. Somehow, he'd grown even more beautiful in death, his vulnerable features all the more softened. Or maybe the loss of him had simply forced her to see him as he truly was, to appreciate everything about this man who should have been hers in life.

"You could have taken a lover after you became Supreme Leader," she said. "I'm sure there were plenty who would have been willing."

Ben looked at her like she was an idiot. "By then, I only wanted you."

That felt criminally good to hear. All she'd ever wished for was to be loved, for someone to come back for her. That prayer had been answered in the most brutal way possible, and Rey didn't quite forgive the Force for it.

Ben didn't ask if _she_ had ever had sex. After her ignorant comment about kissing, her level of experience must be painfully obvious.

"Do you think it would be possible for us to--you know?" Rey asked. "I'm not saying we should! I'm just wondering if we even can."

He bit his lower lip, and with that one simple gesture, all of her reservations nearly vanished. She'd give up all of her tomorrows for one night beneath Ben. If she could only get her nervousness under control.

"I don't see why not." He kissed her, slowly and lazily, until she felt liquid all over. "I've imagined it more than I'd like to admit."

She could have soothed him by saying the same, but her truth was a bit harsher than his. He'd dreamed of loving the light, whereas she'd been tempted by darkness. It was Ben Solo she'd wanted most, but there had been plenty of moments when she'd have taken Kylo Ren into her bed, if she could have done so without consequences.

Ben froze, his eyes wide, and she realized that he must have felt what she was thinking.

Now Rey wished _she_ was the one who could disappear.

She groaned. "Can you forget you saw that?"

Ben shushed her, then said, "You don't have to be ashamed. I certainly can't judge you for it. Besides, it's flattering that you wanted me even like that."

Rey smacked his shoulder. "Flattering for _you_! Not so flattering for me."

He grinned. "Be honest, when you were daydreaming about me, did you ever picture me with the mask on when we--?"

Rey slapped her hand over his mouth, blushing so hard that she felt hot from head to toe. "You're twisted!"

Ben bit the heel of her palm, and when that didn't work, he kissed it until she uncovered his mouth.

As soon as he was free, he said, "So, that's a yes, then?"

Rey kissed him to shut him up.

They kept on like this as the dawn light grew stronger, kissing and teasing. Rey was learning what the weight of his body on hers felt like, that his ears weren’t only prominent but also very sensitive, and that his hand was large enough to span her back from one shoulder blade to the other. The idea of sex still hung around them, but Ben seemed to understand that she was skittish. His touches were still possessive, but didn’t wander from her waist or her back or her hips.

She yawned again and Ben rolled off of her with a soft chuckle. “Sleep, Rey. Please. You’re making _me_ tired at this point.”

Rey chewed her lip and Ben tracked the movement with sleepy eyes.

“Okay,” she whispered. “But please don’t go.”

Her words pained him, she could tell, but he only pulled her close.

“I’ll try my very best.”

It was a strange sort of heaven, sleeping in Ben’s arms. She felt safe and kept in his strong embrace, but it was difficult to fall under fully. She drowsed in and out of wakefulness, and it wasn’t until Ben turned them both on their sides and cradled her close, her back to his front, that she finally slept. There was something wonderful about learning these things together; having the chance to trial and error sleeping arrangements was the queerest luxury.

The room was limned in gold when she woke and her heart leapt when she realized that Ben was still in her bed.

He kissed the back on her head, breathing a warm breath over her scalp. “Not gone yet.”

Rey turned toward him with a wide grin. “How long has it been?” she asked.

Ben shrugged, but his face showed the excitement he was trying to contain. “Half a day, maybe more.”

“That’s--that’s a lot longer than last time.”

“It is,” he agreed. “Maybe next time--”

Rey’s breath caught as his image wavered. He dissolved before her, but with a look of hope on his face instead of resignation, still talking and breathing.

She almost tumbled out of the bed. She knew it would happen, she knew she was lucky to have as long as she had, but seeing him disappear again turned her stomach. She was assaulted again with her Exegol fear and hopelessness. The room around her strobed with the same dry lightning and all she could see was the empty clothes on the stone floor. Ben’s death overlaid her vision and Rey suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

Warmth suffused her, originating from the place on the back of her head where Ben had last kissed her. He wasn’t gone, not really. He wasn’t gone, though she might have to close her eyes the next time he left her.

She exhaled a long breath, her senses still too sharp and her heartbeat too fast. When she looked around her bedroom, she saw that all of the furniture and books and miscelania was floating a few inches off the floor and shelves. She let out a shaky laugh and concentrated on lowering everything down gently. Her glass of water spilled and Rey was glad to have something to do.

She fetched a rag from the kitchen and went to mop the mess up. From the corner of her eye, she saw that one of the drawers of her dresser was ajar. Had she done that too?

Rey went to close the drawer before she remembered what was inside. She didn’t have much to call her own, but this she treasured as much as her lightsaber. She knelt and pulled the tattered sweater from the drawer, draping it over her lap. It was clean now, all the blood washed away, but she hadn’t tried to repair it. The knit was soft and worn, and Rey wondered when he wore it. Had this belonged to Ben Solo, or was this a small comfort that Kylo Ren had allowed himself outside of his cowls and capes?

She held it to her nose, though it smelled like laundry soap, not her Ben. He’d died in this, and she’d kept it like a grieving widow. Rey took off her own sweater and pulled Ben’s on. She swam in the soft material, and her skin peeked through different rips and scorch marks. It should have felt morbid, wearing her love's death shroud, but Rey knew it wasn’t. He had disappeared in front of her, but she knew he would be back.

That was the hope that carried her through the next four days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback! We hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)


	4. Chapter 4

The next time Rey saw Ben, she was relaxing in a lavender sage bubble bath. She felt him the moment before she saw him, a familiar presence in the corner of the room, and when she opened her eyes, she yelped and covered her chest. Heaps of foam protected her modesty well enough, but she was still naked, five feet away from Ben Solo.

His mouth fell open, a pink flush staining his pale cheeks. He didn’t look away. In fact, he stared hard at the froth of bubbles, as if he was trying to see straight through them.

“Can you get out?” Rey hissed.

Ben strode toward the door—but halfway there, he seemed to hit an invisible barrier, blocked by a wall that wasn’t there.

He looked over his shoulder and said, “Actually, I can’t. The room runs out right here.”

Rey sank lower in the water, until her chin was submerged and her knees peeked out, the air cold on her exposed skin.

“This is really inconvenient,” she grumbled.

Ben’s voice was as dry as Jakku when he said, “Oh, is it?”

“Wiseass.”

He sat on the edge of the tub, smiling. “Why so shy?”

Rey glared at him. “You’re just loving this.”

“Guilty as charged.” His gaze slipped over her from the top of her head to her knees. “The more I think about it, the happier I am with my afterlife accommodations.”

Rey giggled, which wasn't something she could ever remember doing. It felt almost sacrilegious to joke about, this strange half-life that Ben was now living. She was still afraid that he might disappear for good, though every reappearance soothed her a little bit more.

Ben ran his fingers over the bubbles, gasping when they clung to his fingers. He lifted them to his mouth and blew, watching as they floated back down to the tub.

"This doesn't feel like death," he said. "I—I thought death would be more of a punishment than this. Mine especially."

"I'm glad it's not," Rey said. "You deserve peace, after everything that's happened to you."

Ben canted his head, the way he used to when trying to read her mind. Such things were unnecessary now, of course.

"And what about the things I've done?" he asked quietly. "You don't think that matters?"

Rey sat up straighter, bringing the water level with the tops of her shoulders. The answer to his question was neither simple nor clean, but she owed it to him.

"It matters," she whispered. "But not to me."

Ben touched her cheek, then slid his fingers down to her jaw, her throat, trailing over her wet skin all the way to her collarbone. Heat followed in the wake of his touch, and she half wanted him to keep going. To reach beneath the dissolving bubbles and cup her breast.

Ben inhaled sharply. "All you have to do is ask."

_Please._

He'd once begged her with that vulnerable word, shattered and desperate in a burning throne room, with only the stars to witness. She was tempted to turn it back on him now. Give in to this need they hadn't been allowed to explore when he was alive, instead of shying away from it. But she wasn't brave enough to try yet. If the restricting rules of Ben's place here somehow stood in the way of making love, it would break her.

"Will you give me a little space?" Rey asked. "And turn around."

Ben stood, turning away from her while she dried off with a fluffy towel. He couldn't go very far, so even though he wasn't watching her, it felt shockingly intimate. Her legs trembled as she changed into the clean clothes she'd set aside. Cotton panties, a bra and undershirt, socks, grey trousers… and his sweater.

"I'm decent," Rey said.

As soon as he saw her, Ben touched her sleeve, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.

"You kept it."

Rey wrapped her arms around him. He felt real, as solid and substantial as her. It seemed impossible that he was so ephemeral, like to disappear at any moment. The Force had never been kinder in giving him back to her; and it had never been crueler in taking him away, again and again.

"Of course I did. It was all I had left of you."

She'd have sooner cut off her own arm and left it behind than abandon his clothes on the floor of that Sith temple.

"I wish we'd have saved one of those cannons," Rey admitted. "I'd have blown Exegol to stardust for taking you away from me."

Ben pressed his lips to her forehead, his breath honey-scented once again. "I don't regret it. Not for a second. When I saw you lying there, I knew I'd give anything to bring you back."

Rey tried to pull away, but Ben held her close, his strong arms impossible to break free from, even if she'd wanted to. And really, she didn't.

"It wasn't a kindness, making me live without you," she said. "It's not that I don't appreciate what you did for me, what you gave up, but if it had been my choice to make…"

Ben grasped her hair and tilted her head back. "You have so much to live for. And I only had you."

Rey opened her mouth to argue, but she had nothing to say. His family was just as dead as hers and the Resistance would hardly welcome him with open arms.

"We match," she said, changing the subject. She ran her hands up his chest and over the soft weave of his sweater. Or ghost sweater. Something.

His lips twitched. "I always thought that you would look good in black."

She swatted him. "Yes, I'm sure all that was just about fashion."

His almost-smile faltered and Rey shut her eyes in embarrassment. She'd switched topics from bad to worse.

"Stop," he said before leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "We both know what hangs between us. It's not important right now."

He was right. They’d suffered enough, often at each other’s hands, and Rey didn’t want to linger on that part of their history.

“I was planning to go to market after my bath,” Rey said. “Would you like to see the village?”

Ben nodded, then followed her to the mudroom, where she put on her boots and bundled up in her outerwear.

“Do you think the villagers will be able to see me?” he asked. “I might only be visible to you.”

Rey’s fingers stilled halfway up the buttons on her coat. “If they can’t see you, does that mean you’re not… real?”

What if this was all in her head? It was too good to be true, the man she loved returned to her nearly whole. The Force worked in strange ways, for good or ill, and her need for Ben was so strong. Maybe he was simply a memory, one that she’d pulled into being to soothe her in her grief.

“It’s me, Rey. Really me, not just a memory. I could tell you a hundred things about myself that you never knew.” Ben cupped her face between his hands, steady and grounding. Surely a phantom wouldn’t feel this solid. “I was born on Chandrila the day a peace treaty was signed between the New Republic and the Empire, ending the war. When I was a kid, Lando called me ‘little starfighter.’ My mom seemed like the most important person in the world, a Senator rebuilding the galaxy, but it was my dad I looked up to most. All I wanted to be was a pilot, just like him.”

Ben winced, and Rey covered his hands with her own. “I did know some of that. Your mother told me, when I asked her about you.” She stood up on her tiptoes and nudged his nose with her own. “I hadn’t heard about little starfighter, though, and it’s adorable.”

That earned her a smile from him. “Now you have to admit I’m real. The man you knew never would have admitted to something that undignified.”

Rey pulled her hooded cloak from its hook and handed it to him. “Wear this. If other people _can_ see you, it would be best for none of them to get a good look at your face. You’re kind of famous.”

“Infamous,” Ben corrected. “But point taken.”

Rey's cabin was on the outskirts of the little settlement. It was as if the locals knew she was used to having her own space, because it was a quarter of a mile before other houses came into view.

The walk was idyllic. A light powdering of snow covered the recently swept footpath and the needles on the pine boughs glittered with frost. It was the furthest thing from what Rey had known on Jakku, and Ben seemed to sense this.

“You said you came here because of your friend. Is she in the village?”

Rey was quiet for a long moment before saying, “No. Her home city is a few hundred klicks to the west.” Ben said nothing, letting Rey sit in the silence until she was moved to speak again.

“I wanted something utterly different. I didn’t want a desert, or a craggy seaside, or a green, green forest. Everywhere seemed to remind me of somewhere else, and it felt like I couldn’t remember anything from my past without tying it to something sad.”

Ben touched her shoulder, running his fingers down her arm before bending to grasp her hand. “Scarif has beautiful beaches, if you can look past the wreckage strewn about.”

The corner of her mouth turned up as she shook her head. “No wreckage. And the sound of waves makes me—”

She didn’t need to say the rest. They’d both been soaked with sea water when she’d given into the dark long enough to run him through with his own saber.

“You healed me, Rey. I wasn’t hurt, not really.”

The sentiment wasn’t as reassuring as she’d like it to be, considering that she’d been his death in the end anyway.

“Hood up,” she said, though she shouldn’t have bothered. The sounds of the market reached them before they turned the corner on the path, and the smell followed soon after.

Pellah was a peaceful refuge for many, as it seemed like no two races or species were alike in the city square. They were all united in thick wool clothes and fur cloaks, as well as in the excitement that a market day could bring. The air smelled like roasting spiced nuts and baked bread and woodsmoke. Each stand was draped in a different color canvas with their own peoples’ talismans and baubles strung between the posts.

At the butcher’s stand, chicken-like birds squawked from wire cages while comrades that had already met their fate hung on hooks, their skins roasted and smoked to a golden brown. The baker’s tent overflowed with baskets of bread, delicately iced cakes filling the tables in regimented lines. There was a woman selling mulled wine, and the vegetable stand was already starting to look picked over. Anything that wasn’t a hardy, stubborn tuber tended to sell out quickly in the Cypren market.

Rey took all this in, the sights and sounds and scents, before looking up into Ben’s hood. His brow was drawn and his lips were tight, his eyes darting from one place to another.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, and he huffed.

“I sort of hope they can’t see me. I stick out like a sore thumb.”

Rey wrinkled her nose and looked around. Oh.

Reds and golds and greens were favored colors of the villager’s clothes, not so much Ben’s black sweater and her dark blue cloak. But the absence of a heavy, fur-lined coat made Ben look more foreign than anything.

“You aren’t cold?” she asked, feeling ridiculous that she hadn’t realized their slip earlier.

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m aware of the cold, but it doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

She nodded. “I’ll buy you a coat at the tanner’s tent. Stay here.”

But as she started off he touched her shoulder. “I can’t stay behind, Rey. I have to be near you.”

She grimaced. That was stupid. “Right. Of course. Well, we should go there first. It was probably silly of me to think I could find something that would fit without you there to try it on.”

“If I can,” he muttered.

Rey brushed that off. He was wearing her cloak just fine, so she couldn’t see why a bit of leather and fur should be any different.

“Because this cloak belongs to you,” Ben said, answering her unspoken question.

She ignored him. If he couldn’t wear something that hadn’t been hers first, it might mean that he was less real than she thought. Rey wouldn’t be able to stand that if it was true.

The tanner’s tent was thankfully on the outer rings of the market. Rey’s heart was pounding in her chest as she walked over. This was a true test of what some of Ben’s limits might be.

Delia looked up from the skin she had stretched on a frame when they approached, and the smell made Rey’s eyes water. There was probably a reason the tannery was relegated away from the other more savory smells. Delia didn’t do much work in the square for this exact reason, but the old woman seemed immune to the stench by now and always brought along some small project to keep her busy between customers.

“Mistress Rey!” she exclaimed. She gifted her a smile where every tooth in her mouth was spaced just a little too far from its neighbor and her own leather looking skin creased into a thousand-thousand wrinkles. “What might I show you on this fine day?”

Rey swallowed. Delia just hadn’t noticed Ben yet, she told herself. He was real.

“Um, I need to buy a coat.”

The hairless place where Delia’s eyebrows should be shot up in surprise. “What’s the matter with the deerskin I gave you? Is it the green? I told you that red would better suit—”

“Not for me,” Rey said quickly. She gestured behind her, seeing that Ben had held back several steps. He joined her and she said, “It’s for my frie—for my—my Ben.”

Rey didn’t have time to feel foolish, because Delia’s eyes flicked up, up, up, then squinted, trying to get a better look at Ben’s face within the hood. She could see him! Oh gods, she could see him.

“Well!” the old woman said. “I was prepared to gift you another coat, but to cover a lad this size I’m afraid I’ll have to charge you at least something, Mistress Rey.”

Rey nodded in profound relief. She’d give the woman Ben’s weight in credits for this small spark of hope. “Of course. I’ll pay full price, Delia. I have the coin.”

Ben was silent in the exchange which didn’t seem to bother Delia. She tutted then referred to Rey, then ultimately ignored her as well. She unpacked a few trunks before finally coming forward with something that looked like a fur tent.

“Try this on, boy,” she said, handing it over.

Ben reached out a slightly shaking hand and took the coat from Delia. He swung it up onto his shoulders before pulling his arms through the sleeves, and Rey’s mouth went dry.

Ben was large on his own, but in this coat, he was massive. The hide had been dyed a charcoal grey and was lined in fur that graduated from white to grey to black. Rey had mistaken it for a tent because it reached all the way down to his ankles and rippled around him in indulgent excess. He looked like a god of hunters, feral and dangerous and strong. Rey knew that he was indeed all those things, but soft besides, which made the image all the more appealing.

“Very old, that coat,” Delia said, walking over to Ben and standing on her tiptoes to adjust it on his shoulders. “Lined with Loth-wolf, which you just don’t see anymore.”

Ben nodded, still silent.

“Never thought I’d have the chance to sell it. You don’t often find a man that size without an extra arm or two.”

Ben nodded deeply. “Thank you,” he said in a very low voice, almost too quiet to be heard above the ambient sounds of the square.

It took a long time for Rey to convince Delia to take a fair amount of credits for the thing. She insisted that it was cumbersome and took up room, while Rey pointed out that anything that large had to have taken many pelts and even more hours to make. Rey was a second from using a mind trick on the woman before she finally relented, saying she’d pass most of it on to the girl that did all of her trapping anyway.

The silence was thick around them as they made their way to the next stall. Rey was practically giddy with the fact that Ben could be seen and even touched by others. Maybe they had this whole ghost-but-not thing wrong.

Rey loaded a bag with simple foods that wouldn’t require other ingredients to eat: roast fowl, potatoes, crusty breads and ginger cakes. Ben stayed close to her side the entire time, a large, comforting presence. She paused at the produce stand, digging through the many shades of apples like a child trying to find just the right kind of sweet.

“Here,” she said, absently passing Ben a pink and gold apple the size of a toddler’s fist. They were tiny but potent, she knew, sweet and tangy at once. She was about to pluck a deep purple apple from the back when she felt something thump on her foot. She looked down to see the small apple that she’d handed to Ben. She picked it up and turned fully to him.

He looked—off. Tired, somehow, though she knew he didn’t need sleep. He was staring at his hand, flexing it open and closed.

“Will you hand me that again?” he said, his voice thin.

Rey held it out again, placing it carefully in his hand. His eyebrows drew together as he stared at the fruit.

“What is it?” Rey asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Then the apple fell through his palm and landed again on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming along on this ride with us, friends. If you have a minute, we'd love to hear what you think of the chapter. 💕


	5. Chapter 5

Rey managed to keep herself together through the walk from market to her cabin, but as soon as she set the grocery bags down on the floor in the hallway, she burst into tears. She hated being such an easy crier, especially in this moment, when she had no right to be more upset than Ben. _He_ was the one who'd given up his life. He'd saved her and kissed her and died, and nothing was ever going to undo that.

"Rey, come here."

She scrubbed at her face, but she couldn't stop crying, not even when Ben pulled her into his arms. His body felt so strong and firm, so human, but she'd seen that apple fall right through his hand. Like he wasn't even there.

Rey kissed his throat, wet and messy, and when he gasped, it sent a shock through her whole body. At least she could touch him—and if she had her way, she'd never stop.

When he pressed his lips to hers, it felt like coming home. Because that was what he was to her, the place where she was most herself and most loved. This was a beginning and an end and every moment in between, the time that had been stolen from them returned, and Rey didn't intend to waste any of it. She kissed him back with all the passion she'd felt for a year, but that she'd been too afraid to exercise when he was alive. Ben was here and hers. Not real, but she was going to allow herself to forget that for as long as she could.

Rey pushed his coat and her cloak off his shoulders, then started pulling off her winter wear. Ben watched with sleepy eyes, red lips parted as she stripped out of all her outer layers, then her sweater (his sweater) and her undershirt too. He swallowed heavily, looking her over, his gaze lingering on her bra. Her hands shook as she pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor, baring her breasts.

She let out a shaky breath as she tipped up her chin. She wasn’t particularly womanly. While Ben’s body radiated masculinity, Rey was slight and curveless. The longer he stared at her, the more ridiculous she felt. He’d never had sex before, but he’d probably at least messed around, seen lewd holo-vids. Gods, she was pathetic, her breasts too small and her hips too narrow—

Between one breath and the next, Ben’s hands were on her. He pulled her into him, sealing his mouth over hers with a feral growl. His kiss was brutal, but his touch was quiet and comforting. He ran his hand up her waist to cup her breast, groaning as if in pain when he kneaded her sensile flesh. His hands were so large on her that it should have made her feel even more insubstantial, but she instead felt delicate and feminine—two sensations that were utterly foreign to her.

“Rey, gods above,” Ben said. His fingers were thick and blunted, and yet touched her in deft, precise ways. Stroking over the under-slope of her breast, then brushing over her nipple in glancing caresses that made her gasp. She was aching, wet, needy. Now that she had Ben Solo’s hands on her bare skin, she had no idea why she’d thought to wait so long.

She looped her arms around his neck, hauling him down to her just as his hands moved to grip her hips and lift her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to their bed, yanking at his sweater. His skin was the same temperature as hers as she pressed herself to him, his heart beating in time with hers, but she decided to ignore that. It wasn’t a ghost that could carry her across her house, that could kiss her like it was what was keeping him tethered to the earth.

They fell onto the bed with a graceless bounce, but neither noticed. Rey’s hands went immediately to the fastening of his pants and he somehow managed to kiss her neck while also tugging off her socks. The thought was absurd and Rey tipped back her head in helpless, utterly joyful laughter. Ben joined her, smiling that perfect smile as he helped her rid them both of their clothes.

Ben pulled away from her, his arresting eyes taking her in. It was a frank perusal of her body, a study, as if he were consciously creating a memory within his mind.

“Ben—” she pleaded, feeling suddenly shy under his scrutiny.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he breathed. “Perfect.”

She ducked under the blankets and he followed after her. Maybe he was able to look his fill, but Rey was too nervous to fully take him in. She knew she would regret that later, once he’d slipped through her fingers again, but she felt so intensely vulnerable in this moment.

“You’re safe,” he said. He kissed his way down her neck to her breast, and the soft touch of his tongue was nearly too much. She cried out, her whole body so electric she was afraid she might shatter into pieces.

Ben sensed this, he knew, he always knew, and before she could tell him that she was fine, he moved her to her side, settling behind her. They’d slept like this, though certainly not naked, and it was a familiar sensation that grounded her.

“You’re safe,” he said again, smoothing his hands over her. He touched her breasts then her belly, proving that each caress was something they were sharing and that every new touch was as safe as the last.

His fingers drew circles below her navel, as if treading water before swimming fully out to sea. He waited, and he breathed with her, as present in this moment as she was. Rey swallowed, reaching back over her shoulder and burying her hand in his hair. It was thick and heavy and it smelled like her favorite soap in her bathroom. He was here, and he would take as much care of her as he had before he fell at Exegol.

“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please.”

Ben slid his fingers down, searching and gentle, until he found the spot that made her gasp. He used too little pressure at first, then too much, but he seemed to sense her discomfort and adjusted quickly. Now it felt perfect, almost painfully right as he stroked her. She’d touched herself before on nights when she couldn’t shake her loneliness, seeking some kind of comfort, but it had never felt like this.

Suddenly she remembered a cold interrogation cell, with Kylo Ren invading her mind, tender and cruel at once. _At night, desperate to sleep—_

Her own memory melded with Ben’s, how in the moment before he’d discovered her island, he’d seen her sad attempts to pleasure herself. Back then, she’d been embarrassed by that, but now she could feel what Kylo had felt. The rush of desire and yearning that he’d tried and failed to smother at the sight of her writhing on her hammock, pitifully looking for some small gratification.

Ben fumbled, his touch stilled by remorse and shame. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have—”

Rey bucked against his fingers, choking back a whine. “I don’t care.”

And she didn’t. If anything, it stoked the heat in her belly and the wet between her legs, knowing just how long he’d wanted her. Maybe it was perverse, finding pleasure in any part of that awful interrogation, but Rey couldn’t summon the wherewithal to give a damn.

“Please don’t stop,” she begged. “I need you.”

Ben had mercy on her, and she whimpered as he started caressing her again, faster now. It didn’t take long for him to push her close to the edge, right up to a bliss she’d glimpsed but never grasped. She said his name again and again, too lost to care about anything besides the man behind her, and the climax he was pushing her toward with his clever fingers.

He murmured, “I love you, sweetheart. Just you.”

Rey came with a cry caught in her throat, breathless and trembling, pleasure rocking through her. It went on and on, like all the passion she’d guarded for the last year was seizing her, finally spent.

It wasn’t until she sank back against Ben, boneless and sated, that she realized how hard he was. She moved back against him, and felt his cock nudge between her legs, right where her body needed to be filled. He rocked forward, rubbing through her wet without pushing inside her. His harsh breaths warmed her temple with every little thrust, his hand sliding up to cup her breast.

“Rey,” he grunted. “Let me—please. I need you.”

She’d heard that the first time often hurt for women, but she couldn’t imagine it feeling anything less than perfect if she—

Rey glanced up, and her mind was so hazy with want that it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing.

Finn stood just outside her window, staring at her and Ben with mounting horror. And anger.

Rey tried to pull out of Ben’s grasp, but he was holding her too securely.

“Let me go!”

He released her. “What’s wrong?”

Finn turned and strode away, out of sight.

Rey scrambled off the bed. “It’s Finn. He’s here, outside. He saw us.”

Ben cursed under his breath while Rey threw on the nearest clothes, his sweater and her panties. That would have to do.

She hurried out of the bedroom, but Ben’s shout stopped her.

“Rey! Come back. You’re too far away.”

When she turned, she saw Ben standing by the bed, his body flickering in and out of sight, more transparent than not. _No no no_ , she couldn’t let him go. Not like this. She ran back and threw her arms around him, but his body felt wrong, cold and limp. Ben buried his face in her hair, shaking.

“Are you hurt?” Rey asked.

“I’m f-fine,” Ben said, but his teeth were chattering.

She ran her hands up and down his arms, his skin icy and waxen. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Please don’t go, please don’t leave me, please—”

“I’ll be all right. I’m just tired,” Ben said, his voice raw, strangled.

Rey gripped his hair and drew him back enough to scatter kisses across his cheeks and jaw and lips. “I won’t do that again. I promise.”

Ben stood straighter, nodding. “We should find Finn.”

“Right.”

In her panic, Rey had forgotten about Finn, but now she could see nothing but his furious expression when he’d caught her in bed with Ben. She had no idea how she was going to explain this, but she had to figure out something.

Rey and Ben dressed, the air between them tense, heavy with words unspoken. She could hardly give any thought to it when Finn was somewhere outside, angry and hurt, but the charged silence still unsettled her.

It didn’t take long to find Finn. He hadn’t gone far down the path away from her cabin, and when she and Ben approached, he turned to face them.

“You lied to me!” Finn shouted. “To run away with _him_?”

Rey had to remind herself to breathe, just breathe. She’d never seen Finn like this, and it felt wrong, unnatural.

She held up her hands in the way a surrendering soldier might. “This isn’t what you think.”

Finn pointed at Ben. “You said he was dead.”

“I am!”

It startled her, to hear Ben’s deep voice rounded with fury. Vaguely, she registered that he sounded the same in anger, no matter what name he wore.

Finn glanced between the two of them, brow furrowed and eyes squinting, like they were speaking nonsense. She couldn’t blame him for that.

“You don’t look very dead,” Finn said.

Rey wished for a cup of willow bark tea. Her head was already aching. “It’s a Force thing.”

“That’s not how the Force works!” Finn hissed.

She took a step toward him, but when she reached out, he waved her hand away.

“This is the worst lie I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not a lie,” Rey whispered, “but there are things I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry for that. Will you let me explain?”

After Exegol, she’d told anyone who would listen about Ben’s sacrifice, because she couldn’t stand for his return to the light to go unrecognized. Of those who had believed her, most hadn’t seemed to care much. _She_ was the only savior they wanted. Ben would go down in history as Kylo Ren: heir to Darth Vader, Snoke’s enforcer, and Supreme Leader of the First Order. His legacy was darkness, no matter how he’d ended, and even Finn hadn’t been particularly convinced that the masked monster of his past had died as Ben Solo.

Now Finn nodded tightly. “Fine. Tell me everything.”

Rey took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and did her best to recount the story of her bond with Ben. How it had started, forged on Starkiller when they had battled in that interrogation cell. And how it had grown, their minds bridged by Snoke, a connection that had only continued to strengthen after his death.

“I should have known sooner that there was much more to it than Snoke’s doing.” Rey glanced at Ben, and found him watching her intently, wondering how she would put words to what they shared. “It’s difficult to describe, because it’s such an… intimate thing. Our energies in the Force cleave to one another. No, it’s more like they’re two halves of one. A dyad, that’s what Palpatine called it.”

“Like soulmates?” Finn asked.

Rey shook her head. “What?”

“You know, _soulmates_. People who are destined to be together.” He gestured vaguely. “Haven’t you ever read a romance? Or watched one?”

Rey worked very hard not to let her exasperation show. She was trying to explain an exceedingly rare mystical bond in the Force, and Finn had just likened it to some tawdry fiction.

“It’s actually not a bad comparison,” Ben said.

She’d really like to knock their heads together.

Rey pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sure, then. Like soulmates. The point is, we’re tied together forever, and when Ben died, his life energy couldn’t move on to—well, whatever is beyond the physical plane. Sometimes he can manifest, like now, but otherwise, his spirit is housed with mine.”

Finn waved at Ben, eyebrows raised. “So you’re a ghost?”

Ben shrugged. “More or less.”

Finn stepped closer and poked his arm. “You’re awfully solid for a ghost. Can you walk through walls?”

“I’m trying to avoid that sort of thing,” Ben said dryly.

Finn scowled, then poked Ben harder. His fingers disappeared into Ben's bicep past the second knuckles.

The sight made Rey's stomach turn and Ben stumbled back a step, rubbing his arm with a grimace.

Finn's mouth went slack. "Holy shit."

Ben's face looked pale and grey again, so Rey took his hand and pulled him towards the cabin. She didn't want him to disappear again, especially not now when her emotions were so frayed.

"Let's go back inside," she said. "It's freezing."

Finn followed them silently and once they were through the front door, he looked around, as if expecting other ghosts to be in residence.

Ben went to the stove and lifted the kettle to the front burner. His hands shook so violently that the water inside sloshed to hiss in the flames. Rey rushed to his side.

"What are you doing? Sit down."

Ben ignored her. "I'm going to make some tea."

Rey blinked. "W-Why?"

Ben's back stiffened. "Because it's _comforting,"_ he said in a tight voice.

Then Rey heard what he didn't say.

_Because I want to know that I can._

Rey couldn't imagine how difficult it must be for him to exist like this. He'd been the most powerful man in the galaxy, and now lifting earthenware mugs from the cupboard caused the veins in his temples to stand out.

"I just don't want you to—" she started, but Rey made herself stop. She was afraid that if he used all his energy, he would have to leave sooner than he might have otherwise. But this wasn't about her.

"Great place!" Finn said behind her, his tone over-bright. "Thanks for the tour."

Rey groaned then turned back to her friend.

"Sorry. Let me show you around. Then we can talk."

"You can show him around the kitchen," Ben said over his shoulder. "Not much else though."

Finn's eyes widened in indignation and Rey rushed to drag him to the other side of the room.

"Are you okay, Rey?" he whispered. "It can't be easy having Ren around."

"Ben," she said. "His name is Ben."

Finn's lips tightened and he shook his head. "Not to me, it isn't."

Rey almost argued, but then she thought of the scars Ben—Kylo at that time—had left on Finn. Both the burns from their duel on Starkiller and the deeper wounds, the life that had been stolen from him by the First Order. The stormtrooper program hadn’t been Kylo’s doing, but he’d been complicit in their crimes nonetheless.

“I understand why you can’t forgive him,” Rey said, “but I need you to accept that I already have.”

Finn’s jaw tightened. “How? He _hunted_ you, Rey. Tried to kill you.”

“Even when we were enemies, our relationship was more complicated than it seemed.” She glanced at Ben, who had his back turned to them, watching the kettle. He at least had the grace to pretend he wasn’t listening. “He went after me because he wanted me to be with him. He must have asked me a dozen times, but I wouldn’t turn to the dark side for him. I was waiting for him to come to the light. And he did, but we didn’t have any time together, just a few moments—”

Rey swallowed, her vision blurring. She wiped at her eyes before tears could fall. She couldn’t bear to think on that night in the temple, how Ben had disappeared only seconds after their first kiss. The only kiss they would ever have, she’d thought.

Finn’s frown softened. “You’re in love with him.”

Rey nodded. “Very, and I have been for a long time.”

“I guess that explains what I found you, um, doing.” Finn winced. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get that image out of my head.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have peeked through Rey’s bedroom window,” Ben said.

So much for pretending not to eavesdrop.

Finn huffed. “Hey, I knocked! Nobody answered, so I thought she might be napping or something.”

Rey felt hot from her head to her toes. “It’s fine, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

She hadn’t had a moment to reflect on making love with Ben. The things they’d done together, how he’d made her feel—and how far they might have gone if Finn hadn’t interrupted. She and Ben would probably still be tangled up in one another, as close together as his half life would allow.

Rey tried to shake off the memory of Ben’s hands on her body, because if she didn’t change her line of thought, it would show plain on her face.

“It’s good to see you,” she said. “Even if the circumstances are a little awkward.”

His smile was as warm as ever. “Yeah, you too.”

It struck her that it wasn’t like Finn to seek her out when she needed space.

“Is everything all right with the Resistance?” Rey asked.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, everybody’s fine.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I know you asked to be left alone, and I didn’t want to bother you. It’s just, I’ve got a… problem, and I wasn’t sure where else to turn.”

Rey clasped Finn’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He stood straight, steeling himself for something.

“I think I’m like you,” Finn said. “Force sensitive. Maybe it’s always been there inside me, or maybe it just _happened_. I don’t know, and I’m not sure I care about that. But to be honest, it’s scaring the hell out of me, and I need some help.”

Before Rey could say anything, Ben laughed. He turned to Finn, smiling in a way that looked more pitying than amused.

“My condolences,” Ben said. “This isn’t a club you want to be in.”

Finn pulled a face, looking to her. “How long does he usually stick around?”

“Not long enough,” Rey said, but she couldn’t help smiling. She gestured Finn toward one of the kitchen chairs. “All right, sit down. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let us know your thoughts on the chapter. :)

**Author's Note:**

> More to come! Food porn and fireside naps and everything nice. Please take a moment to comment below. We'd love to hear from you. <3


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